Indulgence
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: "Lust was an ugly, messy, inconvenient feeling. It clouded the mind and did strange things to the body – things that were uncontrollable and humiliating. And unless one desired to procreate, it served no useful purpose." Written for Day Four of hp-may-madness.


Author's Notes: Written for Day Four of hp_may_madness, with the kink "Biting".

)O(

Lust was an ugly, messy, inconvenient feeling. It clouded the mind and did strange things to the body – things that were uncontrollable and humiliating. And unless one desired to procreate, it served no useful purpose.

And the most unpleasant thing about it, the Dark Lord reflected, as he idly watched Bellatrix undress for him, was that it as persistent enough that even he occasionally needed to put his dignity aside and satiate it.

There was no way to maintain one's composure completely during sex. The best that he could do was control his physical reactions to the best of his ability, and only allow Bellatrix – who was loyal enough never to gossip about him – to be witness to him in those most intimate moments.

"Come here," he told her, and Bellatrix was eager to oblige.

The Dark Lord sat in a high-backed chair – a bed would be too intimate – fully clothed, save for where he had undone his robes enough that Bellatrix could reach the crucial parts of him. Having her naked and himself dressed gave him a sense of control over the situation – if anyone was to be humiliated by an excess of physicality, it would be her. She mounted him and straddled his lap, and the heat of her body against his was a wonderful pleasure. Just the sensation of another human body pressed so tightly against him, a human body that was compliant to his wants and his whims…

"What do you desire me to do, Master?" Bellatrix whispered. He resisted the urge to sneer at her – foolish girl, surely she knew exactly what he wanted. But perhaps she was afraid of doing something that might not please him, or maybe she wanted to hear it from his mouth so that she could be sure that he really _did_ want her. Silly, romantic girl.

But he would indulge her.

"Ride me," he told her. Bellatrix's eyes were glazed over with lust and she let out a breathy half-moan and wrapped one arm around his shoulders to steady herself before she sank down on him.

Her body felt good – tight and hot around him; exactly the sort of feeling he craved, as all men craved…

And yet there was no satisfaction as she rocked against him. Hardly any pleasure, even. He could not focus on the physical sensations – his mind would not shut itself off.

How many other men had Bellatrix had this way? Many, surely; she was no virgin. Had she clung to them the way she clung now to him, whispered "_I'm yours_," in their ears as she did for him? What did any of it mean if she had done it all before to men for whom she felt no allegiance?

He should not have been concerned by it. He had never told Bellatrix that he wanted her to be chaste – never before had he even thought that that _was_ what he wanted. She was his servant, not his lover.

And yet the thought that she had been with other men – that other men had felt this body against them, heard those throaty sighs and moans…

He gritted his teeth with suppressed anger. Bellatrix was _his_, his most devoted slave, and if he wanted her body to be entirely his as well, why should he not have it?

He caught her by her waist and pulled her tighter against him, eliciting a gasp from her. Her body trembled and tensed and shuddered deliciously, like the body of one trapped under the Cruciatus curse…

Oh, how many times the Dark Lord had held Bellatrix under that curse and watched her writhe and thought of how sensual she appeared, how erotic in pain…

He swept her hair back off her neck and bit down on her shoulder, hard enough to make her gasp again. _Good_. She was taking more pleasure in sex than he was, and that simply would not do. He _needed_ to hurt her – it was the only way to keep her in her place.

"Master," she whimpered, and she was tensing around him, every muscle in her body clenching and unclenching in quick succession. "Master, I'm s- so–"

His teeth broke her skin and drew blood from her shoulder and she moaned, her hand going to his head, pushing him harder against her neck, and then quickly dropping away. The blood tasted sweet in his mouth, sweet and pure…

He came with no more signal than a quiet groan, muffled against her neck, and was aware of Bellatrix's far more dramatic orgasm. She clenched so hard around him that it nearly hurt, and scrabbled at his back and shoulders with her fingernails, and cried out an incoherent jumble of expletives, declarations of loyalty and wordless moans.

He waited until she was done – arousal and pleasure and the delightful _release_ all giving way to mild irritation at her show of passion – then pushed her off him. He was not rough with her. Not violent. He simply didn't want her to touch him anymore.

"My Lord," she said, eyes wide and nervous, though still full of desire, "did I not please you?"

He did not answer immediately. _No, you didn't_ would be a lie; _yes, you did_ would give her a sense of accomplishment that he did not think she deserved.

"You were perfectly adequate," he told her at last. "And you may go. I will call upon you again when I have need of your services once more."

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
